


Stronger Together

by Taaroko



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-07 22:24:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12850776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taaroko/pseuds/Taaroko
Summary: AU from before the final scene of "Disharmony" and about the middle of "Intervention." After the events of "Epiphany," Darla is on her way out of Angel's life for good when she finds out about his visit to Sunnydale in "Forever." She's not going to stand for it. Inspired by the recent "Insert Scene" thread on Buffy-Boards, as well as the intriguing parallelism between Angel/Darla and Buffy/Spike. Fueled by all the years I've spent wanting to write a fic that gives Spike his comeuppance for the BuffyBot and failing to think of a plausible way to do it. So, yeah, definitely not a fic for Spike fans.This is how I imagine things might've gone differently in the shows if the writers had been more practical about Spike, less allergic to letting the title characters be happy, and there had been no limits on crossovers.(Not sure I like the title. Might change it.)





	1. Visions of Revenge

It had been weeks, and Darla was still seething. She’d thought it was bad enough when Angelus ran away with that baby he refused to kill, but him tossing her out on her ass like yesterday’s trash was so much worse.  _ She _ was the one who told him to leave or she’d kill him. He wasn’t allowed to turn that around on her.

Even so, she might have been prepared to leave it be. As long as the soul was there, he would never be her boy. Not really. She’d accepted that a hundred years ago. The only thing that had made it a tolerable outcome this time was knowing that as long as he cared to protect that soul, he would have to remain miserable and alone. That miserable loneliness was what she wanted to see one more time before she left L.A. for good.

What she found instead, during her silent visit to the Hyperion, enraged her. She didn’t care that Angel had his little detective agency back together, though she wanted to vomit at the way he now begged for their scraps instead of taking charge. No, what infuriated her was that Angel had the scent of the Slayer on him. Not to an extent to indicate that he’d slept with her—it might actually have been a balm to Darla’s ego if even his precious Buffy was no longer perfect happiness for him—but he’d clearly spent quite a few hours in her close company.

Darla wasn’t going to stand for it. He didn’t get to just run back to his little cheerleader bitch whenever he felt like an emotional pick-me-up. After lifetimes together, he’d  _ killed _ her for that cheerleader, who’d gone on to kill the Master. Buffy Summers had cost Darla her life, her sire, and the heart of her darling boy. What better use to put her second chance to than revenge?

†

Cordelia was in an extremely bad mood. Harmony’s visit, though it had started out great, had turned into an utter disaster, Angel kept following her around like a puppy, making her feel like a jackass for keeping him at arm’s length even though he freaking deserved it, and now she had a splitting headache because of the most ridiculous vision ever.

“Darla’s going to attack Buffy?” said Wesley.

“Yep,” said Cordelia, tossing back the pain pills Dennis had floated over to her and swallowing them dry. She’d gotten depressingly good at that.

“Buffy, as in Angel’s ex who is a Slayer with a capital ‘S’?” said Gunn. “Isn’t one single vampire the kind of thing a Vampire Slayer is supposed to be able to handle?”

“It really is,” Cordelia grumped. “So I figure we can just call her up and let her know so she and the Scoobies can take care of it, and then we can go back to looking for local cases with paying clients.”

“You don’t even wanna tell Angel?” said Gunn, glancing at Wes.

“Why should we?” said Cordelia. “We’re the bosses of him now, so he can just hear about visions on a need-to-know basis and deal with it.”

“Cordelia, you spent all day Tuesday insisting we show hospitality to your evil—and extremely irritating—vampire friend, who then betrayed us,” Wes pointed out. “Your claim of the moral high ground has somewhat eroded. You shouldn’t punish Angel by refusing to tell him about this vision, particularly when he’s been trying so hard to earn back your trust.”

“Are you saying he’s already earned back both of yours?” she demanded. “After three months of him ignoring us and my visions for his vendetta against Wolfram and Hart, all it takes is a couple weeks for things to go back to normal?”

“What do you suggest we do?” said Wes. “We’ve forced him to work at that ridiculous table and fetch coffee for us, which he  _ has _ done, and he’s more than had our backs in every fight since he came to his senses.”

“Yeah,” said Gunn. “How much more crow do you expect him to eat? ‘Cause it already stopped being fun, and at some point if we keep kicking him while he’s down, he’s gonna ditch us again, only this time we’ll deserve it.”

“We’re not saying you should be in a hurry to get chummy with him,” Wes went on when Cordelia opened her mouth to argue. “Gunn and I certainly aren’t. But he’s at least earned a certain amount of professional courtesy, up to and including being told about visions that concern someone he cares about.”

“But Angel’s obsession with Darla is exactly what started all of the problems, so why would the Powers that Be want to send him into a situation involving not just one, but  _ both _ of his tiny blonde exes?!”

“Likely Darla is only targeting Buffy because she’s jealous. Angel did go to pay his respects to Mrs. Summers the other day, and perhaps she found out about that,” said Wes. “It could be that the Powers are giving him an opportunity to make up for the damage his obsession caused. After all, he has already killed Darla to protect Buffy once.”

Gunn shrugged. “Makes sense to me.”

Cordelia glared at both of them. “Fine,” she said. “But we’re calling Sunnydale first, and if it turns out they  _ can _ handle it, then Angel doesn’t need to know.”

Wes and Gunn grimaced but didn’t argue further.


	2. The Ex and the Stalker

Darla expected to have to spend several days creeping around town, creating or coercing minions, and gathering intel before she’d even be ready to start forming a plan, but instead, she struck gold towards the end of the very first night. Walking along the forested outskirts of Sunnydale Cemetery, she could hear a fight in progress. A few yards ahead, two greasy, diseased-looking creatures in brown robes stood peering through a gap in the bushes. Darla wouldn’t have cared, except that they happened to be standing at just the spot that was most ideal for seeing without being seen, so she sneaked up behind them and snapped their necks before they could so much as turn to face her.

She looked out over the graveyard. Buffy was there, along with a pair of sidekicks, and they were fighting four vampires, one of whom was Spike.

“No, get away from him!” Buffy cried. Darla blinked, hard. What the hell? She looked again and actually processed what she was seeing this time. Not only was Spike fighting on Buffy’s side, but the Slayer was _protecting_ him, even though her human friends were clearly struggling with their one vampire opponent. After using it on the vampire she’d been fighting, she tossed him her stake to use on another.

Drusilla had, in one or two more lucid moments, hissed and ranted about Spike going soft, but fighting fellow vampires alongside the Slayer? What happened to all his bluster about being William the Bloody, Slayer of Slayers? No wonder she’d dumped him—but then, Darla had never understood why she’d chosen him out of all the men she could’ve sired in the first place, let alone held onto him for so long afterward.

The humans finished off their vampire at roughly the same time Spike staked his. Darla narrowed her eyes. Now that the noise level had died down, she could hear gentle mechanical hums, whirs, and ticks, and they sounded like they were coming from the Slayer. What was more, Darla had been able to recognize the scent of Buffy Summers on Angel from yards away, but here was the girl herself, and Darla now realized that the only things she smelled like were plastic and...no. Surely not. No vampire in her own line could possibly have this little self-respect.

Darla inhaled deeper and had to clap a hand over her mouth to hold in a burst of incredulous, derisive laughter. It was true. That wasn’t the Slayer at all. It was Spike’s high-tech sex toy, and he had most definitely been using it. So, Spike was in love with the Slayer and was having so little success there that he’d somehow acquired a robot version of her to console himself? His interest in her actually surprised Darla less than Angel’s did, considering his long-running obsession with Slayers.

She was already glad she’d decided to make this trip. Next to Spike, she didn’t feel quite so pathetic anymore. At least she had actually managed to get the real Angel, even if it had only been for one night of what he’d decided was despair-sex. She ground her teeth. Men were such idiots.

“I think that was probably the big action for the night,” said Spike to the humans, plainly eager to get rid of them. “You two can toddle on home if you want.”

“Uh...Buffy?” said the young man. What, had he not noticed that “Buffy” was a robot?

“Yes. Spike and I will do it alone. You guys head home.”

Darla wrinkled her nose. The voice was so perky and mechanical. How was that thing fooling anyone? Presumably these people had _met_ the Slayer before. Maybe they were just stupid, though, because they left after offering nothing more than a strange look by way of protest.

As fascinating as Spike’s sorry little obsession was, Darla thought she’d learn more about what the real Slayer was up to if she stuck with the humans, so she slipped through the woods, keeping them in sight.

The girl coughed. “Ugh, I breathed in like a quart of vampire dust. That can't be good.”

“I wish Giles told us they were back from the desert,” said the boy. “I wish I knew what went on there.”

“Oh, you know, Slayer/Watcher stuff. Probably some silly ritual with an enchanted prairie dog or something.”

“Whatever it was, I think she’s still a little spacey.”

The girl shrugged. “She fought okay.”

“Hey, she didn’t ask about Dawn.”

“That’s true.”

Darla was growing impatient. There hadn’t been much time to learn details about the Slayer’s life in the brief window she’d had between that humiliating first encounter and the deadly final one, so she couldn’t remember which names attached to which people. There had been the Watcher, the mother, the bratty kid sister, and the gaggle of misfit friends, including the boy Darla had brought to the Master and the one she was now eavesdropping on. Giles was clearly the Watcher, and she thought Dawn had to be the name of the sister, unless there were now more people in her circle aside from this girl here.

“Something’s wrong,” the boy concluded, and they headed back in the direction of Spike and his toy.

So did Darla, and they were all treated to an eyeful of the robot straddling Spike, though everything was covered up by its skirt. “Oh, Spike. You’re the big bad,” it called out in its perky voice. This just kept getting sadder and sadder, and judging from the humans’ looks of disbelieving horror, Darla had been right in thinking that the real Buffy had never deliberately given Spike so much as a shred of encouragement. “You’re the _big_ bad.”

Oh, there was no _way_ Darla was leaving that one lying there. The humans were headed out again. She could’ve followed them, but she’d already learned from them that Buffy was out of town with her Watcher, which meant she had some time to prepare.

Careful to time things just right so as to ruin Spike’s fun, she emerged from her hiding place, clapping slowly. “What a moving scene,” she said. “It must be love.”

“Darla! Bloody hell!” Spike yelped, jumping and shoving the robot away from him, holding his coat up to preserve his modesty now that the tacky pleated skirt wasn’t doing the trick, and awkwardly zipping up his pants. “I thought Dru said you were in L.A.!”

“And I thought Dru came back here for you. What does she think about all this?” she said, waving her fingers at him and the robot, which was frowning at Darla.

“I’m done with her,” he said, jutting out his chin and looping an arm around the robot’s shoulders, causing it to smile very brightly and abruptly. “She’s nothing on my Slayer here, so I sent her packing.”

“Yes,” said the robot matter-of-factly. “Spike offered to stake Drusilla for me. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but was very moved because of their long history together, and Drusilla ran away because she was jealous.” Darla raised an eyebrow as it planted a smacking kiss on Spike’s cheek. She was very interested to know what had actually happened, not just the Spike-filtered version of events, but she obviously wasn’t going to hear that from either of the available sources.

“That’s right,” said Spike.

“Don’t embarrass yourself, Spike,” said Darla. “Whoever made your little toy might’ve done a good enough job to fool those idiots, but I’m harder to get past. You fell for the Slayer and she rejected you, didn’t she?”

“She’ll come around,” he said, scowling. “It’s only a matter of time, now that soldier boy is gone and she’s all grief-stricken over her mum. She wants me, she just won’t admit it to herself. Besides, you’re probably only here because you failed to wrap Angel around your finger. Hello, pot. I’m kettle. Nice to bloody meet you.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised what I was able to wrap around Angelus,” said Darla with a wicked grin. She looked at the robot. “You don’t know what you’re missing out on, sweetie.”

“But I’m not missing out,” it said. “Spike is a very good lover. Much better than Angel, who is lame and bloody stupid. And his hair sticks straight up.”

Darla burst out laughing. “Did you come up with those lines yourself? I didn’t think it was possible to write something worse than that so-called poetry you were always spouting at Dru.”

“Sod off, Darla. Angelus only ever put up with your nagging because you shagged him. Why should I get the drawbacks with none of the perks?”

“That would be because I have standards,” said Darla scornfully. “Besides, you apparently prefer to get your perks from a blow-up doll like some pimply thirty-year-old living in his mother’s basement. But that’s pretty much what you were doing when Dru turned you anyway, wasn’t it?”

“Don’t talk to Spike that way!” said the robot in a poor approximation of an indignant tone. “He is sexy and confident and very intimidating.”

Darla was torn between amusement and annoyance on being scolded by that thing, but watching Spike’s growing mortification tipped the scales towards amusement.

“Er, Buffy, go in the crypt and power down for a bit, would you?” he said, glaring daggers at Darla. The robot walked off and disappeared inside the cement structure next to them. “What do you want, Darla? Or did you just come here to ruin my night?”

“How is it that the Slayer and her friends haven’t disposed of you? And don’t give me more of that ‘Buffy wants me, she just won’t admit it to herself’ bullshit.”

“What, you think I wouldn’t have preferred to be on the other side of that fight a few minutes ago?”

“Then why the hell weren’t you?” said Darla.

“Because I don’t have a sodding choice! The military stuck a bloody shock collar in my skull last year. It goes off whenever I try to hurt a human. At least I can still get in a spot of violence here and there killing demons, and I’ve made myself an indispensable part of the Slayer’s circle. I give them information, they give me cash. Everybody’s happy.”

That certainly made Darla feel better about being used by the lawyers, though she was sure she’d have found a way to get rid of this shock collar device and punish those responsible if she’d been in Spike’s place. “Well, I think you and I have a similar problem,” she said. “Angel recently came back from a mysterious two-day absence positively reeking of little Miss Summers.”

Spike’s lip curled. “Yeah, Captain Forehead swooped in the night of her mum’s funeral, the opportunistic bastard, and she fell right back into his arms like he’d never broken her heart and abandoned her.” His voice positively dripped bitterness. Perfect.

“What would you say if I told you that you could get what you really want instead of that mechanical imitation, and I could make Angel wish he’d never met the Slayer, all at the same time?”

His eyes narrowed. “I’m listening."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no intention of ever writing anything M-rated, but for some reason, this chapter was actually difficult to keep at T. Still a blast to write, though. Darla and Spike know how to throw some serious shade.


	3. Truces

To Cordelia’s frustration (and maybe just the tiniest bit of worry), all the Sunnydale numbers she tried after Wes and Gunn left had gone to answering machines. It might’ve been a coincidence the first time, but she tried again after the sun came up, with the same result. Either nobody was at the Summers home, Willow’s dorm, or Giles’s flat at all, or Darla was an even more serious threat than the vision had indicated.

But just because the guys had been proven right, that didn’t mean Cordelia was going to give them a chance to get all “I told you so” over it. So she went to the hotel early enough to beat them there.

Angel was already sitting behind that stupid little table when she arrived. He stood up as she approached, giving her a cautious, awkward smile. Ugh, he really needed to stop doing that. “Good morning, Cordelia,” he said.

“I had a vision last night,” said Cordelia, folding her arms.

The smile vanished, thank God. “What was it?” he said. “And shouldn’t we wait for Wes and Gunn?”

“They already know. I called them both over to my apartment right after I had it.”

“Oh,” said Angel, trying and failing not to look hurt at being deliberately excluded. She wanted to slap him.

“In my vision, I saw Buffy.” Angel froze, all traces of careful, overly friendly overtures suddenly gone. “She was getting attacked in what looked like a crypt...by Darla.”

Angel closed his eyes, the muscles of his jaw working hard. “Why didn’t you tell me while there was still time for me to make it to Sunnydale before sunrise?”

“I don’t have to answer that question. I don’t work for you.”

“Cordelia.”

The silence stretched between them as they glared at each other. Cordy broke first and hated herself for it. “It was because I didn’t want to be the one to send you off to get mixed up with Darla again, okay?” And considering how dangerous he looked right now, she was feeling pretty validated about that.

“Then why tell me at all?”

“Because nobody in Sunnydale is answering their damn phones, so maybe Darla really is a big enough threat to Buffy that she needs your help.”

“Yeah, and what am I supposed to do about that for the next ten hours?”

“For starters, you’re going to listen to me when I tell you the rest of the details in my vision.”

†

Not for the first time, Spike lamented the lack of foresight that had led him to select a crypt with no tunnel access to live in. He was already fed up with Darla, and they still had ten hours of daylight left to burn, stuck together in uncomfortably close quarters with the robot he would very much like to resume having sex with, but which had been banished to the lower level. Darla had mostly given bitch-mode a rest, but only because she was currently less interested in mocking him than she was in grilling him for every single piece of information she believed she needed to know about Buffy and the Scoobies.

He and Darla had never got on well. Darla had tolerated him for distracting Drusilla so that she could have the greater share of Angelus’s attention, and he’d tolerated her for pretty much the same reason in reverse, but she’d still always treated him like dirt on her shoe. As soon as it became clear that Angelus was gone for good, she’d ditched him and Dru so she could run off back under the Master’s wing.

And now here she was, bossing him around in his own sodding crypt. Well, she was going to help him get what he wanted, all right, just not necessarily in the way that she thought.

“Now, once you’ve got her here, I’m not taking any chances. Unlike some, I’m not fool enough to go head to head with a Slayer in fair combat.”

“Then you’re missing out,” said Spike. “But whatever. I’ve got plenty of restraints and stuff in the lower level.” He smirked. “Take your pick.”

Darla shot him a simpering glare, but her chance at a retort was ruined by the sound of approaching footsteps outside.

“You better get down there anyway. Say hello to the Bot for me.”

“I could just kill whoever it is.”

“Get violent straight off and lose your element of surprise? Fine. That sounds like more fun anyway.”

She stalked over to the hole in the floor and dropped through without another word.

Spike’s unannounced guest turned out to be Xander. “Oh, it’s you,” he said. Of all the Slayer’s groupies, he liked Xander least. What exactly was the point of him?

Xander shut the door behind him. He looked angry. “I saw you. In the cemetery, with Buffy.”

Spike put on an air of bravado, as much a second skin to him as the dead Slayer’s duster. “Yeah? Can’t see how it’s any business of yours.”

“It  _ is _ my business because Buffy’s my friend, and she’s gone through some stuff lately that...well, it’s affected her, and you’re taking advantage of her.”

Spike sighed and pulled out a cig and his lighter. “She’s upset about her mum.” He got it lit and gave it a long drag. “And if she turns to me for comfort, well, I’m not gonna deny it to her. I’m not a monster.”

“Yes, you  _ are _ a monster,” said Xander. “Vampires are monsters. They make monster movies about them.”

“Well, yeah, you got me there.”

Xander grabbed him by the front of his shirt. He was very glad Darla couldn’t see this, or he’d never hear the end of it. “Spike, Buffy has lots of friends. We love her very much, and we’ll do whatever it takes to protect her. Now if that means killing you, then, well, that’s just a bonus.” He let go with a shove, making Spike stagger a little, then stormed out, banging the door on the way.

Darla wasn’t long in reappearing. “If Buffy’s friends are popping in and out of here like this, then we need a different location once we’ve subdued her.”

“I know a place,” said Spike. “By the time any of them thinks to look there, it’ll be too late.”

“Spike?”

“Bloody hell,” Spike muttered, massaging his temples with one hand.

“I thought you told it to shut down,” said Darla through gritted teeth.

A blonde head poked up from the hole. “I waited like you said, but...then I missed you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because Darla killed the minions who were spying on Spike and the Buffybot, they never got a chance to report back about their theory that Spike is the Key, which is why no minions showed up to abduct Spike while Xander was visiting.


	4. Outdated Contact Information

Giles pulled into one of the guest parking stalls at Xander’s apartment complex, and he and Buffy got out and headed to the door. Buffy could feel Giles’s eyes on her, but didn’t react. She was tired, hungry, and deeply annoyed after her fun adventure in the desert, but it would be better when she saw Dawn still safe and sound. The whole reason she’d gone on the vision quest was that she wanted reassurance about how her role as the Slayer would impact her as a human woman if she kept being so gung-ho about it, and now she had even more questions than when she’d started. How the hell was death a gift? She was full of love but she pulled away from it? Why couldn’t she get a freaking straight answer for once?

They were almost to the door when she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. Something brown had just vanished around the side of the building, and she took off after it.

The demon hadn’t made it far when she caught up. It was one of those gross, robed, hobbit-looking things that worked for Glory. She seized his arm and twisted so that he couldn’t move without hurting himself, and he began whimpering.

“What are you doing lurking around my friend’s apartment?” she demanded.

“P-please!” he cried, struggling against her grip. “I am only doing as my delectable mistress bids! We must discover the identity of the Key for her!”

Buffy’s face hardened. Giles had followed her around the side of the building and was now cleaning his glasses. “And have you?” he asked in a deceptively calm voice.

“My information is for no other ears than those of her terrifying yet shapely divine majesty!” the demon declared.

“Oh,” said Buffy, “well in that case….” And she snapped his neck. She didn’t enjoy killing much weaker opponents, but there was only one thing to do with demons who wanted to give Glory information about Dawn. He sagged, remaining heavy and smelly in her arms. She made a face and looked up at Giles. “I’ve never actually killed one of these things before. Think that was enough?”

“Best not leave it to chance,” he said. “We should probably bring it up with us.”

“And by ‘we,’ you mean ‘those of us with super strength’,” she said wryly. “Fine, fine. I’m cool with being the pack-mule.” She smiled at Giles’s fond exasperation and hoisted the hopefully-a-corpse over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

The entire gang was assembled in the living room when they entered. “Buffy!” said Xander, leaping to his feet. “We’ve been looking all over for you!”

Buffy frowned at him. “Why? You knew I was out in the desert with Giles.” She heaved the hobbity minion onto the coffee table and hugged Dawn.

Everyone there exchanged deeply confused glances, except for Dawn, who squirmed out of Buffy’s grip so that she could get a better look at the dead demon. “Ew. What’s wrong with its skin?”

“No idea, but hopefully it’s a species thing and not a contagious disease thing.”

“Uh, Dawn, why don’t you go pack up your stuff?” said Willow.

Dawn shrugged and disappeared into the bedroom, Willow closing the door behind her.

“Are you sure you’ve been in the desert this whole time?” said Tara.

Buffy exchanged a nonplussed look with Giles. “Uh, yeah? Why do you guys seem so convinced I wasn’t?”

“Because Anya and I saw you at the cemetery with Spike,” said Xander. He looked deeply disturbed for some reason, and his voice was doing that cracking thing it mostly only did when he was very agitated. “We talked to you and helped you dust some vampires.”

“Yes,” said Anya, “and then we were about to leave, but we went back to check on you because of how weird you seemed, and you were straddling Spike and using very transparent and frankly embarrassing euphemisms to describe the size of his penis.”

Buffy recoiled so hard that she had to brace herself against the wall, her stomach heaving. “Oh God, I think I just threw up in my mouth.”

“Yes, quite,” said Giles, now cleaning his glasses for the second time in five minutes. “Are you certain you actually _saw_ this? You weren’t, by chance, having a shared hallucination of some kind?”

“Oh, we definitely saw it,” said Xander, his tone accusatory. “And we’re never going to be able to unsee it.”

“Well whatever you saw, that wasn’t me,” said Buffy indignantly.

“Maybe it was you from another reality!” said Willow. “Or-or another one of those ferula gemina rods.”

“If there’s a reality in which I know enough about Spike’s penis to make euphemisms about it, let alone whatever the hell else was going on in that cemetery, then I want never ever to go there,” said Buffy. “And even if I got split into two Buffys, the other one would want brain bleach as badly as I do right now.” She gave a full-body shudder.

“Okay, so then what the hell was that?” said Xander, though he and everyone else now looked considerably relieved. “Because it looked and sounded exactly like you.”

“Whatever it was, we don’t have time to deal with it or Spike right now,” said Buffy. She gestured at the dead demon on the coffee table. “We found this guy lurking outside, trying to learn the identity of the Key for Glory. She’s getting closer, and we need to figure out what to do about it. Maybe if we knew what she wants the Key for, we’d be closer to stopping her.”

†

Wes and Gunn had barely arrived when someone came to the Hyperion looking to hire them about an ectoplasm problem in their crawlspace, so the two of them left to take care of it while Cordelia and Angel left for Sunnydale. She drove and he huddled under a blanket on the back seat.

The two-hour drive was silent. If that was because Cordelia was attempting to punish Angel by not speaking to him, then she’d clearly forgotten how comfortable he was with long silences—although, admittedly, with his imagination full of all the horrible things Darla could be doing to Buffy, it might’ve been better if Cordy spent the drive chewing him out.

The first place they checked when they arrived in Sunnydale was Buffy’s house. Angel could hear Cordelia knocking and calling Buffy’s name, but he could tell even from his position in the driveway that nobody was home. He also didn’t smell blood, though, so that was a good sign.

Next, they tried Giles’s flat, with the same results.

“Anything?” Angel asked when Cordelia slid back into the Plymouth after going into Stevenson Hall to try Willow’s dorm. They had parked in the campus parking garage, so Angel had a reprieve from the blanket.

“No!” she said, annoyed. “Where the hell is everybody? At least it doesn’t look like there was a struggle anywhere.”

“I’ll hit the tunnels and see what I can turn up. You should take the car. You could visit your mother.” He didn’t know a lot about Cordelia’s parents, except that her dad was in prison for tax evasion and her mom lived in a small apartment that she paid for with a minimum wage job.

She turned around and looked him in the eye for the first time since telling him about the vision. She seemed torn between being annoyed that he would make any suggestion as to how she could use her time and being grateful for the idea. “If you’re sure,” she said. It was the closest she’d sounded so far to the way she talked to him before he ruined everything. He wished he’d had time to buy her replacements for the clothes he’d donated to Anne’s shelter before they left L.A.

“Yeah.” He dared to smirk a little. “Unless you want to come with me in the sewers.”

She grimaced. “No thank you. Here.” She pulled her planner out of her purse, tore a sheet out of it, and scribbled down a number. “Call me there if you find anything, and I’ll check in with the guys.”

†

Dawn had a couple more days of excused absences left in her school-approved grieving period, but Buffy probably wouldn’t have wanted her going back to school yet even if that hadn’t been the case, especially now that they knew Glory was trying to figure out who the Key was. Buffy wasn’t thrilled that this meant Dawn now got to tag along with the gang when they went to the Magic Box, but it couldn’t be helped. They really needed to research and prepare a strategy against Glory.

“If Glory sent that one minion, she’ll probably send more,” said Buffy, pacing. “What if they’ve already heard everything they need?”

“I’m fairly certain we would know, were that the case,” said Giles dryly.

“So then how do we stop them from learning anything they don’t already know?” said Xander.

“We could do an anti-eavesdropping spell,” Tara suggested.

“Ooh, that’s a good idea!” said Willow, perking up. “It’s pretty basic magical soundproofing, right?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind your house smelling like sulfur and dead toad,” said Anya from behind the cash register.

“I think I can handle a little stink under the circumstances,” said Buffy. “Let’s do it. If it’s not too hard, we should probably do it here and at all of our places.”

“Can I help?” said Dawn eagerly.

“ _Maybe_ ,” said Buffy.


	5. Cost of Living

Hours of traveling the sewers and tracking down old contacts turned up little useful information. Whatever Darla was up to, she was either keeping an extremely low profile or hadn’t been in town long enough for anyone to hear about it. Angel did hear quite a lot about Spike, though. Ever since he was defanged by the military, he’d been killing demons, participating in the demonic black market, and collecting info to hand off to the Slayer. A few demons who played poker with him had heard him bragging about how the Slayer wanted him to shag her but was too uptight to admit it, a claim the demons found hilarious and unlikely.

If Angel still hadn’t discovered anything about Darla by the time the sun went down, he decided that Spike was going to be his first stop. Darla and Spike had never liked each other, so the chances seemed low that she’d be working with him, but he might as well check as long as he had no other leads.

Willy’s bar was still open for business, though when Angel walked in not long before sunset, there was nobody else there but the bartender himself, and he got the impression that this was the case more often than not of late.

“Haven’t seen you in a while, Angel,” said Willy. “Can I get you a drink?” Willy had always been afraid of him, so his hopeful tone made Angel think he’d been right about a recent decline in business.

“I’m not here to drink,” he said. “I heard the Slayer might be in trouble.”

“You mean because of that Glory chick? Well I wish you both luck. That lady’s been real bad for business. Not as many demons in town ‘cause they’re too scared of her to stick around. Sometimes I get one of her followers in here, but as a rule, they’re pretty shitty tippers. And there’s that one guy, Doc, who just stares at you through those Coke-bottle glasses of his.” He shuddered. “Times are changing, and not for the better.”

Angel had heard plenty about Glory from Buffy during his recent visit. “Not Glory or her followers. A vampire. Darla. Recently came to town.” He slid one of his sketches across the bar.

Willy frowned at it. “I haven’t heard about anyone like that.”

“What about the Slayer and her friends? Know where I’d be likely to find them?”

“Try the Magic Box. Some of my customers have complained that they don’t want to risk shopping there now that a Watcher owns it and the Slayer hangs around it all the time.”

“Thanks, Willy.”

†

“This should be everything,” said Giles, looking over the spell materials they’d gathered on the table.

“I wish I’d thought of doing this kind of spell in my dorm before now,” said Willow. “I have some very noisy neighbors, and I know way too much about their love lives.”

The phone rang, and Buffy went to answer it. “Hello?” she said.

_“Slayer.”_

She gritted her teeth. She’d managed to go several hours without thinking about her other, much creepier problem, but it looked like the reprieve was over. “What, Spike?” Everyone else froze and stared at her. She grimaced and shrugged.

_“No need to get snappish, love. I’ve got something you’ll want to see at my crypt.”_

She was revolted by the deliberate double-meaning in his tone, but she refused to give an audible reaction to it, because that would only lead to even more leering and lewd comments, and punching him apparently only made it worse. “What is it?”

_“Couple of Glory’s minions were snooping around here earlier, trying to gather info.”_

“What do they know?” said Buffy sharply.

_“Well, they’re not talking to me, so you’ll just have to come here to find out, won’t you?”_

Buffy scowled in frustration and hung up. “Spike’s got a couple of Glory’s minions at his crypt,” she said, grabbing her coat off the table. “I’ve got to go see what that’s about.”

“Want any of us to come with you?” said Xander. “What if he’s got that fake Buffy thing with him?”

“Fake Buffy thing?” said Dawn.

“ _Not_ something for you to worry about,” said Buffy. “And I’ll be fine. You guys just keep working on that anti-eavesdropping spell.”

†

Cordelia’s visit with her mom was probably the best they’d had since she’d left Sunnydale. Evelyn Chase was gradually growing less bitter about her dramatically altered financial situation, and they’d actually been able to have a pretty good conversation about their respective jobs over some very good Chinese takeout. Cost of living in Sunnydale was always low thanks to all the demonic activity (not that Evelyn knew that), which made it easier for her to hold down an apartment that most people who’d never been members of the upper class would find pretty nice, even on an hourly wage. Her one weakness was a lingering tendency to impulse-buy brand name accessories and shoes, but there weren’t many credit card companies willing to help her indulge that habit these days, considering what her husband was in prison for.

Even Cordelia had her limit talking money matters, though, so Angel’s call was a welcome one when it finally came. She hugged and kissed her mother goodbye and drove across town to pick him up from Willy’s bar. The sun had just barely slipped below the horizon, so she ceded the driver’s seat to him. He might be her underling now, but it was still his car. Angel attempted to ask about her afternoon with her mom, but she rebuffed him, if only halfheartedly, and soon they pulled up at the Magic Box.


	6. Much in the Style of John Wayne

Buffy hoped very much that this visit would be quick and to the point, not another dead end serving as a thinly veiled date or some other waste of her time. She also fully intended to pretend to know nothing about the Buffy double described by Xander and Anya, because that was a mystery she did _ not _ want the answer to.

She marched straight up to the crypt and hammered on the door. She would’ve barged right in, but who knew what he was doing in there? The door opened and Spike appeared, smirking and eyeing her up and down. With difficulty, she suppressed a shudder, folding her arms and glaring coldly at him. “Glory’s minions?”

“Right in here,” he said, sweeping his arm out towards the heart of the crypt.

Buffy shot him a sideways glare before stepping past him. There were indeed two of Glory’s minions inside, but they were both plainly dead, necks snapped just like the one she’d killed outside Xander’s apartment. With a frustrated groan, she rounded on Spike. “And how exactly am I supposed to find out what they know if you already killed them?”

“Oh, I’m not the one who killed them,” said Spike.

“Then who did?” said Buffy, the last of her patience trickling away.

“That would be me,” said a distantly familiar voice from behind her. Before she could turn around to see who it belonged too, searing pain flared from the small of her back and through her whole body, and everything went black.

†

The bell on the Magic Box’s door jingled, and Dawn looked around. The next second, she had leapt to her feet and dashed past bewildered Scoobies to launch herself at the black-clad vampire who’d just walked inside. He smiled and hugged her back. “Hey, Dawnie.”

“Angel, Cordelia,” said Giles. “What brings you to town?”

“Are you staying this time?” said Dawn, hugging him even tighter, as though she could physically force him not to leave again if she refused to let go. He and Buffy might’ve been high-drama like she’d told Riley, but he had also made Buffy happy, and it was super unfair that they couldn’t be together. Plus, he’d always been nice to her (when he had his soul, anyway), and he’d taught her a few phrases in some of the languages he knew. Giles didn’t even do stuff like that.

“I had a vision,” said Cordelia. “In it, Buffy was getting attacked from behind by Darla. Totally blindsided.”

Dawn withdrew her arms from around Angel’s middle. “So that’s all this is about?”

“I’m sorry,” he told her, laying a hand on her shoulder. She folded her arms and turned away from him. She and Buffy had just lost their mom, and their dad wasn’t even in the same country. Couldn’t the universe at least give Angel back as a consolation prize?

“Darla,” said Giles. “The same Darla who turned you? How is that possible? We saw you stake her four years ago at the Bronze.”

“Yeah, well, the devil’s literal advocates decided to bring her back because they thought that would be a great way to screw with Angel,” said Cordelia. “And oh  _ boy _ did they ever hit the bullseye with that one.”

“Cordelia,” said Angel.

“Did you see anything else?” said Willow. “Like where or when Darla was going to attack?”

“Not sure about the when, but it was definitely in a crypt.”

“Buffy left ten minutes ago because Spike called about having important information for her,” said Xander. “Was it  _ his _ crypt?”

“Well that would explain why there was a TV in it,” said Cordelia. “Why the hell haven’t you guys staked him yet, anyway?”

“Where’s the crypt?” said Angel, his voice close to a growl. Willow, Xander, and Giles were all acting worried for Buffy’s safety, but Dawn wasn’t. Angel would protect Buffy like he always did, and then he would go back to L.A. and it might be years before she saw him again.

“Sunnydale Cemetery, towards the back,” said Giles.

With that, Angel left, before any of them could so much as begin discussing strategy.

“I guess he hasn’t changed much,” said Xander.

Cordelia gave a loud, derisive snort.

†

Angel kicked down the door of Spike’s crypt, already in gameface. It was empty, but he could smell that Darla and Buffy had both been there. They couldn’t have been gone more than ten minutes. He turned to go, thinking he could track them if he hurried.

“Spike?”

He froze and turned around. That was Buffy’s voice, but...

Something that looked identical to Buffy but sounded like it was full of circuits, pistons, and gears climbed into view from a hole in the far corner of the crypt. It looked at Angel and pouted. “You’re not Spike. Where is he? I miss him!”

It got close enough for him to be able to smell it, and he saw red. It was one thing for Spike to have an obsession with Buffy and delude himself into believing she returned it, and if she kept him alive for information, that was up to her. But he did not get to disrespect her like this and keep walking around, never mind teaming up with Darla against her.

“I’m looking for him,” said Angel, forcing himself not to sound as enraged as he was.

“I think he went somewhere with that blonde woman. She was very rude to him. But so was I, before I accepted my true feelings for him. You don’t think he’ll fall in love with her instead of me, do you?”

“Did they say where they were going?” Angel ground out.

“I don’t know,” it said. “And Spike is smart as well as sexy, so I don’t think anyone will find him if he doesn’t want them to. The last time I powered on, I heard the blonde woman say they needed a place to take ‘her’ once she was subdued, and Spike said that he knew somewhere that nobody would look until it was too late.”

Angel’s expression went flat. The factory. He was almost positive. At least Spike was still a moron. “Tell you what,” he said. “I’ll find Spike and bring him to you, but you need to go wait for me at the Magic Box. Get Willow and Giles and go somewhere Dawn can’t hear you, then tell them all about you and Spike.” As much as he’d prefer to have this thing melted down, he was trying to break his habit of making unilateral decisions.

“Okay!” it said, smiling brightly. “You are very helpful. Thank you!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Considering that it's unlikely Spike has pictures of Angel and even more unlikely that Warren does, I seriously doubt the Bot would be able to recognize him on sight. It's just been programmed to insult him whenever his name comes up.


	7. The Woman Scorned

Buffy’s whole body ached. She couldn’t believe she’d gotten tased in Spike’s crypt for a second time. She tried to move, only to discover that her hands were bound in chains behind her back. “Ugh, not again,” she mumbled. She blinked, and slowly the blurry dimness around her came into focus until she could make out the blackened, soot-covered, very familiar interior of a factory. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” She wasn’t surprised that Spike had brought her here, just that the city still hadn’t torn the place down after three years. She struggled against the chains, and the movement sent an ominous metallic creaking noise up from whatever the chains were attached to.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” said that familiar voice. She squinted in the direction it had come from, and a blonde woman about her size sauntered into view. “I mean, you probably could free yourself if you pulled hard enough, but that’s a load-bearing beam. From the looks of this place, I don’t think it’d take much to bring the whole building crashing down on top of you.”

It took the entirety of this little taunting speech for Buffy to recognize her. She looked very different, considering that she hadn’t aged. No bangs, much better clothes, and, most importantly, somehow no longer a pile of dust. “Darla,” she said. “How...?”

“Angel didn’t tell you?” said Darla, smirking. “Some of his more powerful enemies wanted to get under his skin, so they brought me back.”

No, Angel  _ hadn’t _ told her, and that stung. Why hadn’t he, when it was something this important?

“Considering the night we spent together two weeks ago,” Darla went on, “I’d say it worked.”

Buffy’s eyes widened. Angel had  _ slept _ with Darla? “He wouldn’t do that,” she said. “His soul—”

“That’s exactly  _ why _ he did it, sweetie. He  _ wanted _ to lose his soul. Didn’t you know how far your Angel had fallen?”

Buffy was going to have to have a long conversation with Angel about that, but for now, she was more interested in the undercurrent of anger in Darla’s voice. “I guess it didn’t work, though, huh?” she said. “Is that why you’re here? Jealous that I was perfect happiness for him when you couldn’t be?”

Darla’s face contorted in anger. “How?” she said through gritted teeth. “How could a  _ child _ like you do what I couldn’t?”

Buffy smiled. “Love.”

_ You are full of love. You love with all of your soul. It’s brighter than fire. Blinding. That’s why you pull away from it. _

_ Love will bring you to your gift. _

_ Death is your gift. _

_ When you kiss me, I want to die. _

It was true. She did love Angel that much, and the pain of not being able to be with him was why she hadn’t been able to love someone else that way, in case it happened again. It was why Riley had left. The irony was so strong that she didn’t even mind answering Darla’s question. She would give anything to  _ not _ be a threat to Angel’s soul, and here Darla was, bursting with rage for the exact opposite reason. “It’s like something out of a bad fairy tale. Only true love can break the spell. Lucky me, huh?”

“But why  _ you _ ?” Darla snarled. “What’s so special about you that he would love you?”

“That’s something you’ll have to ask him,” said Buffy. She knew why she loved Angel, and he had on various occasions told her why he loved her, but knowing you were someone’s perfect happiness and then not getting to be with him was a difficult thing to understand. She twisted her hands around until she had one of the bands of the chain between her fingers, careful to move slowly so her efforts didn’t make any noise. She might be able to pull the links apart instead of ripping the whole thing through the support beam.

“Maybe I will,” said Darla. “But  _ you _ are never going to see him again. At least, not the way you are now.”

A thrill of fear shot through Buffy in spite of herself. She twisted two of the links against each other as hard as she could with the limited leverage and range of motion she had.

“Spike,” Darla called, and he loomed up beside her in the semidarkness. “I think we’re ready to begin.”

“Begin what?” said Buffy.

“Making you like us, love,” said Spike. “You won’t be able to deny this anymore when my blood’s in your veins.”

†

Sure enough, the factory was still standing, burnt-out, derelict shell though it was. Spike’s DeSoto was parked outside, his, Darla’s, and Buffy’s scents all leading away from it. Careful not to make a sound, Angel went up and in the same way he and Buffy had the night of her seventeenth birthday. From there, he could see the whole interior. Spike and Darla had Buffy chained to one of the central beams, and they were drawing closer like foxes circling a trapped rabbit. He heard them telling her what they planned to do to her, which made his blood boil. From this angle, he could see that she was working hard at getting free of those chains. She just needed a distraction.


	8. Subjective Reality

“Just make sure you tear up that scar on her neck when you drain her,” said Spike. “I don’t much fancy her living forever with Angel’s mark, since Dracula didn’t have the courtesy to muck it up when he bit her.”

Darla’s eyes flashed dangerously. Buffy scowled. What was with all these vampires and their obsession with her scar? Even as she thought it, the scar tingled, and her eyes flicked up to the catwalk behind them on the far side of the factory. She could just make out a shadowy figure standing there. Her heart leapt. Angel. He was here.

“Was this your idea, Spike, or was it Darla’s?” she said, pretending she hadn’t noticed anything.

“Mine,” said Darla. “I want Angel to lose as much as I have, and Spike seems happy enough to take whatever he can get.”

Buffy snorted, her eyes on Spike. “What makes you think I’d want you as a vampire? Being evil wouldn’t change my taste in men.” She smirked at Darla. “Are you sure you want the competition, forever?” She was, of course, bluffing her ass off. She had no intention of letting them turn her, but if she could make them doubt the wisdom of that plan, or, better still, turn on each other, then she’d say whatever it took until she could get free of these chains. It wasn’t even a lie. She was reasonably sure that the top item on Buffy the Vampire’s agenda would be to get rid of Angel’s soul so that she and Angelus could live evilly ever after. She didn’t want to think about what the two of them would then do to all the people they loved. 

“In that case, maybe I’ll just kill you,” said Darla.

“The hell you will!” said Spike. “We had a deal!” 

A loud crashing noise sounded from somewhere out of sight, making all three of them jump, even though Buffy had been expecting something like that. “Nobody will look here until it’s too late?” said Darla, glaring at Spike. “Go see what that was.”

“And come back to find you’ve already killed her? I don’t think so.”

Darla stalked off to check the noise herself. Buffy could feel the links beginning to give beneath her fingers. 

“Now’s our chance,” said Spike, voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll unchain you, and when she comes back, we can take her by surprise.”

“Oh, so you’re offering to help me only after she decides she’d rather kill me than turn me?” said Buffy. “My hero.”

“I’ve been planning to double-cross her since last night!” he said, indignant. “And I didn’t even ask you to admit your feelings before I helped you this time, so you see? I  _ can _ change!”

“You’re still trying to spin a situation that was your fault in the first place into a way for you to score points!” Buffy hissed. “Not specifically demanding those points does  _ not _ equal change, especially when you also expect points for not specifically demanding points!”

†

Angel waited, stake at the ready. Darla crept cautiously over to where he’d thrown the engine of Spike’s car through the wall. She saw the engine and the hole in the sheet metal, then spun around and caught Angel’s wrist in her hand, stopping the stake from reaching her chest by inches.

“I told you I would kill you the next time I saw you,” he growled. There was something different about her scent, but he couldn’t figure out what, and whatever it was, it wasn’t relevant. 

“You told me to get out,” Darla retorted. “You didn’t specify where I was supposed to go after that. I thought I’d pay the Slayer a little visit. Like you did.” She kicked out at his knee, knocking him to the ground, and then flung him as hard as she could. He was on his feet again in a second, but she was already hurtling back in the direction of Buffy and Spike.

†

“See, this is why I didn’t really want Darla to turn you,” said Spike, smirking. “That fire. The way you resist your dark side so hard, and the way I’ll have to tease it out of you. If you were a vampire, dark side would be all that was left, and where would be the fun in that?”

“Are you incapable of understanding that there’s nothing you can do to make me want you?” said Buffy in disgust. “I should’ve staked you after that thing with Drusilla. Revoking your invitation to my house clearly wasn’t a strong enough hint.”

“Then why didn’t you?” said Spike, moving closer. “You can’t do it. There’s something between us, and you know it. How can you deny it when it’s your own bloody fault, the way you walk and talk around me? What was I supposed to do?”

“You think I’ve been  _ seducing  _ you? On purpose?” said Buffy. What the hell kind of bizarro world did he live in? “You think I  _ wanted _ to have an evil, chain-smoking mass-murderer stalking me? What, do you think pretty girls in movies are flirting with you too? Not everything is about you, Spike!”

“You do feel something, and I’m going to prove it,” said Spike. He seized her face in both hands and moved in to kiss her, but she had finally snapped the chain’s links apart, and she whipped the whole thing around to crash directly into his head. 

He fell to the ground with a roar of pain, but Buffy barely had time to get her hands completely free of the chain when she was tackled by Darla.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I quite like writing a Buffy whose feelings for Spike are not complicated. It's incredibly cathartic.


	9. Dust in the Wind

Angel saw Darla pounce on Buffy right after she managed to beat Spike away with the chain, but he couldn’t reach her before Spike was back on his feet, rounding on him with a snarl, the side of his head covered in blood. “YOU!” he bellowed, lunging at Angel. “You’re the reason this always happens to me!”

“Pretty sure that has less to do with me and more to do with your inability to take a hint,” said Angel, dodging Spike’s incoming fist and elbowing him in the chest.

“You left her!” said Spike, blocking a kick from Angel. “What right do you have to get all territorial now?”

Angel kicked again, and this time it connected. “Just because I left doesn’t mean I stopped loving her. I came to protect her from Darla, but I can rid her of the creep who won’t leave her alone and makes sexbot copies of her while I’m at it.”

Spike leapt back to his feet and kicked the stake out of Angel’s hand. It clattered along the floor and out of sight. “Met the Bot, did you?” he said. “That Warren bloke did an excellent job, don’t you think? Maybe you should get one yourself, because that’s as close as you’ll ever get to—”

Angel sank his knuckles into Spike’s face.

†

Buffy had known Darla fought dirty when she brought a pair of handguns to a crossbow fight, but her hand-to-hand was just as bad. With all the hair-pulling and fingernail swipes, it was turning into the deadliest catfight Buffy had ever been in, and it didn’t help that Angel was locked in combat with Spike just a few yards away. Finally, she managed to get her legs up between them and kick Darla off of her. She put her hands down to boost herself back up, and her fingers brushed the stake. She grabbed it and bore down on Darla. Darla looked from the stake to Buffy, then over to Angel. With a furious growl, she turned and fled at top speed.

Angel and Spike were so focused on their fight that they didn’t seem to have noticed the outcome of Buffy and Darla’s. Spike had just gotten his hands on the chains and was winding up to whip Angel over the head with them, just like she’d done to him. “Angel!” she cried. He looked over, and she threw the stake. In one fluid movement, he snatched it out of the air, ducked the swinging chains, and plunged upward. Spike stared down at the few inches of wood protruding from his chest in shock, and then the chains fell to the ground as he crumbled into dust.

Feeling that it would’ve saved them a lot of trouble if they’d only done that the last time Spike brought hostages here because he couldn’t get the girl, Buffy ran forward and threw herself into Angel’s arms. He hugged her back tightly, but he was still alert. “Where’s Darla?”

“She ran off as soon as I got hold of the stake. Think she’ll come back?”

“She might. She doesn’t usually pick fights unless she knows she’ll win them, but she also doesn’t like coming in second over anything, particularly me.” He tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear and smiled at her. She kissed him. She poured everything left from the adrenaline of the fight into it, along with quite a lot of the jumble of emotions she’d felt ever since the vision quest. He matched her intensity, kissing her like he hadn’t in years. Being kissed breathless by someone who didn’t need to breathe was something else, but he was still the first one to break away.

“I love you,” she said, hands still on his shoulders. It didn’t feel weird to say at all this time, even though she hadn’t said it to _him_ in nearly two years. Maybe the First Slayer had been onto something.

“I love you too,” said Angel, giving her a strange look, as if he wasn’t sure why she’d needed to say it out loud.

“So, you coming here twice in under a week?” said Buffy, stepping back. “You’re going to spoil me. Not that I’m complaining.” No, she definitely wasn’t doing that.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “The stuff I deal with doesn’t usually spill over to Sunnydale.”

“Yeah, about that. I think there’s a lot more we need to talk about before you head back this time.” 

He shrugged. “I’m not in a hurry.”

“Starting with why I’m pretty sure I heard the word ‘sexbot’ come out of your mouth a minute ago.” She began to head for the exit, and he fell in step beside her. “And what Darla meant when she said you two recently spent a night together.”

He winced a little. “I guess it’s a good thing you already kissed me.”

“That bad, huh?”

“I didn’t think the other day was the best time to unload it on you. It’s been a rough few months. Let’s just say my whole team is pissed at me and they have very good reasons.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sorry about killing Spike off, just that the fight scene leading up to it is kinda short. As far as I'm concerned, he either should've been killed off in "Lovers Walk," just popped in occasionally for random cameos in the later seasons (like Drusilla) instead of becoming a series regular, or else the writers should've come up with a much more solid excuse to keep him around than the stupid chip. Once he has his soul, it's fine to keep him alive, but he's fair game in S3-S6, and nobody will ever convince me otherwise.
> 
> More specifically, it's insane to me that "Intervention," the same episode with the very sleaziest of Spike's stalking, is also the first episode where Buffy kisses him. I don't care that he didn't give Dawn up to Glory; that seemed incredibly out-of-character for her, not to mention a dangerous thing to do with her creepy soulless vampire stalker. 
> 
> So hopefully this fic is cathartic for anyone else who dislikes these developments in canon as much as I do.


	10. Witness Protection

Cordelia was not happy at being left behind in the Magic Box. She might be thoroughly over Xander Harris, but that didn’t mean it was fun to see him all cuddly with someone else while she seemed doomed to perpetual singledom. There was also Willow and the girlfriend she’d mentioned in one of the more excruciatingly awkward phone conversations of Cordelia’s life. And then that horrifying robot had shown up, gushing about Spike. On the whole, it felt like everyone else’s relationship drama was puking on her. So, pretty much the usual for being in Sunnydale. She couldn’t wait to be back in L.A. At least Angel, Gunn, and Wes were all just as single as she was.

In between the mushy crap and helping them cast an anti-eavesdropping spell, she was able to glean that the supernatural side of things was pretty eventful around here too. The Scoobies were under threat of an actual god, some unstoppable lady who made Slayer strength look like a joke and, from their description, had a closet Cordelia wouldn’t mind raiding. And this lady was after Buffy’s little sister, for some reason. Yeah, she definitely wanted to go back to L.A.

She was on the phone with Wes and Gunn, trying to convince them _not_ to immediately drive to Sunnydale now that the new client’s house was ectoplasm-free, when Buffy and Angel walked into the Magic Box, both looking rather beat up. Everyone jumped to their feet.

“They’re back, gotta go,” said Cordelia, and she hung up before Wes and Gunn could ask questions. She struggled against the relief and happiness that welled up in her on seeing that Angel was still okay. Why was it so hard to stay mad at him? She’d been doing such a good job at it.

“What happened?” said Willow.

“Darla recruited Spike to capture me so they could turn me into a vampire,” said Buffy, so nonchalantly that you’d think it happened every day.

“He’s dust,” said Angel. “She ran off.”

Cordelia harrumphed. That was just great.

“Spike’s dust?” said Xander. “Hey, you couldn’t give a heads up? I would’ve brought popcorn!”

“Darla got away?” said Giles.

“Yeah,” Buffy sighed. “So now we’re gonna have to keep an eye out for her too. We need more eyes.”

“Oh, that’s easy, I’ll hook you up with a Skilosh demon,” said Cordelia. Angel’s lips twitched, while Giles and Anya looked appalled. Nobody else reacted.

“You don’t still have that...Buffy robot here, do you?” said Buffy, though she didn’t sound like she really wanted to know.

“It’s in the back room,” said Willow. “I deactivated it.” She shuddered. “God, talk about uncanny valley.”

“So I guess you’re just going to leave now,” said Dawn, glaring at Angel. Cordelia was startled by the amount of bitterness in her tone; she never expected to identify with Buffy’s kid sister.

“Dawn,” said Buffy, plainly not wanting the younger girl to make this harder. “You know he has to.”

Watching them, something suddenly clicked so hard for Cordelia that it was like having a vision, only minus the headache. Hell, for all she knew, this was the real reason she’d had the actual vision in the first place. “Maybe you two should come with us,” she said.

“What?!” said Giles, Xander, Anya, Willow, and Tara all in unison. Buffy and Angel merely gaped at her, then Dawn, then each other.

“You’re trying to protect Dawn from this Glory lady, right?” said Cordelia, eyes on Buffy. “But Glory doesn’t know Dawn’s the one she’s after?”

“Not as far as we know,” said Giles slowly.

“Then get her out of town. If the bad guy’s too strong to fight, staying put seems kinda silly.”

“Don’t you think I’ve thought about that before?” said Buffy, half-laughing in disbelief. “Glory would notice if I left with Dawn. She’d come after us. And I can’t just send Dawn off without me.”

“Uh, yeah,” said Cordelia. “I do know this. Put that robot to good use. Make it _look_ like Dawn’s the only one leaving. If the thing fooled these two,” she gestured at Xander and Anya, who looked sheepish, “then maybe it can fool Glory.”

“I don’t know,” said Angel. “It was pretty obvious to me it wasn’t human. Any being as powerful as Glory won’t fall for that for long.”

“Maybe right now,” said Willow. From her eager expression, she was the only one on board with Cordelia’s idea so far. “But I can tinker with the programming and cast a few spells on it. Make it a better decoy.”

“We saw it fight,” said Xander. “That part was already realistic.”

“And if you need an explanation for why Dawn isn’t living in Sunnydale anymore, why not use your father?” said Giles. “Frankly, it would make more sense from an outside perspective that a minor would go to live with a surviving parent than remain with an older sibling.”

“Guys, this is not…,” said Buffy. “Can we really do this? What about all of you? The longer Glory can’t find what she’s looking for, the more danger you could be in.”

“We’ll be fine, Buffy,” said Willow. “Do what you need to do.”

“I want to go,” said Dawn suddenly. Everyone looked at her. “What? If Angel can’t stay here, then the next best thing is us going with him. I could even go to Buffy’s old middle school.”

“But Angel and I can’t be around each other. Not for as long as it might take to make sure Glory isn’t a threat.”

“Come on, is it really that hard to keep it in your pants?” said Anya. Then she looked appraisingly at Angel. “Okay, never mind.” Cordelia stared at her. Damn. And she thought _she_ had no tact. But Anya was apparently completely immune to shame, because she went on like she wasn’t currently the subject of eight incredulous stares, including those of her very indignant boyfriend and a mortified fourteen-year-old. “There’s probably a way around that whole curse loophole thing, if that’s what you’re worried about. Magic might be tricky and prone to biting you in the ass, but it’s pretty flexible.”

“Really?” said Buffy, but then she shook her head. “Heh, no, I’m so not talking about this with all of you here.” She looked at Angel. “Me and Dawn in L.A.? Would this work?”

“There’s plenty of room for both of you at the Hyperion,” he said, obviously also uncomfortable with the previous topic. He and Buffy then proceeded to do that soul-gaze-y thing they always did for a few seconds, and then he turned to fix Cordelia with one of those penetrating stares. “Why do _you_ want this? You’ve never been happy about it when Buffy came to L.A. before, and those were just short visits.”

“Because I think we can help,” said Cordelia. His eyes widened, and she knew he recognized his own words. Good. Because that was as close as she was going to come to telling him she forgave him. She smiled. “But I still get shotgun on the way back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there it is. I really feel like "Intervention" and "Disharmony" are where both shows started to go off the rails a bit in terms of characterization and logic. Not that there weren't problems before, but these episodes were where the writers clearly started pushing the idea of sympathetic Spike (in the same episode as the BuffyBot, somehow) and dork!Angel, two of the most irritating things about the later seasons for me. I also never liked the way Angel bought Cordy's friendship back with clothes in canon, as funny as that scene is, so I wanted to give her a more interesting emotional arc on the way back to trusting him. 
> 
> If I turn this fic into something longer, as you can gather, it's going to keep veering off canon in pretty significant ways. If that sounds like fun, let me know!


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